Skinny Love
by xxbabewithbrainsxx
Summary: On the day of Teddy and Victoire's wedding, Lily Luna Potter faces some home truths. One-shot. Some language.


**Story Notes:**

Please note that this story features a pairing that some may find squicky. Trigger warning for eating disorders (specifically, bulimia). I strongly advise you to read with caution about both issues - with the second one, I truly do not want to upset anyone, so please, please do not read if you know it is a sensitive topic for you.

Finally, mucho love to Ari for the swift beta job. You're fabulous!

Lily took one more look in the mirror and tried to convince herself that her bridesmaid's dress didn't look _that_ tight, that she didn't look quite as fat as she felt, but it didn't do much. It never did do much. Then, sighing, she opened the door of her bedroom, where Victoire and their grandmother were waiting.

Most of the Weasley family were staying in their respective houses, but the Potters, Bill, Louis, Victoire and Dominique were all at the Burrow for the wedding preparations. Lily's parents were both at work for most of the summer, but Lily and her siblings had been roped in to help with Teddy and Victoire's wedding, as had Louis. Today was the day for last minute preparations and the much dreaded trying on of dresses (which had already arrived late as it was), as the wedding was tomorrow.

"That looks lovely!" Molly Weasley declared immediately. "Right, I'll see if I can find Dominique, and then we might just be done."

"Apart from mine, of course, Nana!" Victoire called after her. Molly nodded distractedly, and Lily watched as Victoire sighed, looking more than a little worried. "I feel bad for stressing her out so much," Victoire said by way of explanation. "Nana recites the seating plan in her sleep, she's that obsessed with the wedding."

Gesturing to Victoire to come in, Lily sat on her bed, careful not to crease her dress. "Don't feel bad. I'm sure she just wants to keep busy."

"I suppose. I just - I wish Mum was here," Victoire admitted.

"From what Dad told me, Aunt Fleur and Nana planning a wedding together was a recipe for disaster," Lily blurted out, only realising a moment later how insensitive she must have sounded. "Damn, Victoire, I-"

But to Lily's surprise, Victoire laughed quietly. "Don't be sorry. You're right. They always got on, but Mum was always difficult when organising anything. God, whenever it was any of our birthdays, she wouldn't even let Dad into the kitchen because he would mess something up."

The fondness with which Victoire remembered her mother assuaged Lily's guilt slightly, even if it was accompanied by sadness, too. It was almost a year after Fleur had died, but the strain it had put on the Weasleys and the Potters had made things difficult, especially for Nana Molly.

"Still, I get it. Of course you'd still want her here."

"She'd probably tell me to eat more so I can fill out my dress properly," Victoire said dryly.

"I think I fill out my dress too much," Lily confessed, glancing at the mirror. "Is there any way you can-"

"Don't be silly," Victoire interrupted. "You look beautiful, Lily. The dress is fine."

"Cheers," Lily mumbled back, standing up, turning around and groaning inwardly at how big her behind looked. It was made of lilac lace, just like the dresses her other cousins would be wearing.

Not for the first time, Lily wished she could have at least worn black. At least, then, the wodge of fat she could see at her belly would be a little less noticeable. She was sure_someone_ would say something on the day; usually, it was Roxy, telling her off for eating too many goddamn Ginger Newts, trying to drag Lily flying even though she had always hated anything to do with Quidditch. Or, during the wedding, Lily was sure one of Victoire's French cousins would whisper their disdain in their native tongue about just how much the English seemed to eat.

"Victoire!"

"Yes, Nana?" Victoire called.

"Come and see if Dominique's dress looks all right!" Nana Molly shouted.

"Um, I'd better get going," Victoire told Lily. Catching the obviously worried expression on Lily's face, Victoire patted Lily's arm and told her gently, "You look lovely. Really."

But Lily was sure she could see a hint of weariness in Victoire's eyes, as if she were just saying it because she was tired of all the wedding preparations and that was the easiest way to make Lily shut up. Nevertheless, Lily nodded and smiled, getting up to open the door for her.

To Lily's surprise, Louis was standing on the landing, and he caught Lily's eye and smiled. She felt the now familiar jolt in her stomach every time so much as looked at her, and for what felt like the millionth time, she tried to pretend that whatever it was she was feeling wasn't there. He was her cousin, for God's sake; she couldn't possibly feel like that.

She blamed her hormones for it all. There was, after all, no other explanation - Lily was seventeen and was probably just going through a phase… though she wondered if most teenagers went through a phase of fancying their cousin. Nevertheless, she hoped it would pass soon, before she said or did anything stupid. The last thing she wanted was for him to find out, somehow, about her feelings, whatever they were; no, she was quite happy with their friendship at the moment, without trying to jeopardise it. Besides, it was just a crush - or so she kept telling herself, at least. It would come and go, like any other passing fancy.

And yet, if that were true, then why did she feel she was teetering closer and closer to something _more_ than that every single time he so much as looked at her?

"You look nice," he said while patting his sister on the shoulder as she walked past, and Lily couldn't help but blush. "Is that your dress for the wedding?"

"Yeah," she called back, wondering how she managed to keep her tone level. He made his way towards her, and just before he reached her, she added, "And it doesn't look nice. I look so fat - I'm sure this thing will be bursting at the seams this time tomorrow."

He rolled his eyes. "Cut that out."

"Make me."

Louis's eyes twinkled with the challenge, and she didn't even see him take out his wand before he murmured, "_Silencio._"

"Hey!" she tried to say, but no sound left her mouth. He just laughed, and despite the charm he had just placed on her, she couldn't help but feel heartened by his easy grin and warmth. Louis hadn't had an easy year, and it was only recently that he had begun to smile properly again.

She mouthed several swearwords at him, but he only cupped his ear, saying teasingly, "What was that?"

Lily simply pouted, her hands on her hips. Thankfully, he removed the charm before long, and she immediately said, "You know, just because you're allowed to use magic now-"

"-doesn't mean that you need to whip your wand out for every special occasion?" Louis finished, sniggering. "Yeah, I know. I just don't want to hear your usual whine about your weight. It gets kind of boring at times, you know."

She raised her eyebrows, having never become used to his blunt honesty. She tried not to think about the rapidly shrinking distance between them now he was leaning against the doorframe, apparently unaware of the effect he was having on her. "Sorry."

"It's fine." At this, however, he peered more closely at her, and for one mad, wild moment, Lily thought - stupidly - that he might kiss her. But, of course, that didn't happen; instead, he commented, "You look a bit ill, you know."

"D-do I?"

_Move away from me, goddamn it, _she felt like saying. When had her head started spinning so much? She grasped the doorframe for support, and to her dismay, Louis immediately noticed and grabbed her by the arms, steering her into her room and into her bed. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she snapped, struggling out of his grasp and wishing her vision would become clearer. "Louis, let go of me, damn it." To her relief, he complied, and she lay back on her bed so she didn't have to look at him, but then she felt her mattress groan a little as he sat beside her. He kept his distance, however. "I'm fine. Honestly."

"You don't look it to me."

She didn't know where she found the energy to speak, but she managed to muster enough of it up to say more forcefully, "I'm fine, Louis! Now, I'd appreciate it if you got out of my room. And shut the door behind you."

"Are you sure you don't want something to eat-"

"Louis, please, just go."

Finally, he got the message and got up, leaving her room, but he stopped at the doorway and peered at her, concerned. Lily managed to pick up her wand and aimed it at the door, hating herself more by the second. Louis only just got out of the way in time before the door slammed shut in his face.

* * *

Much later, Lily tossed and turned in her bed, having slept fitfully. She checked her clock and groaned when it only said it was one in the morning; she couldn't possibly be that hungry, could she?

But she was. Her now rumbling stomach proved that, and the faint feeling of nausea in the back of her throat lingered, not helping matters in the slightest. She had wished that her queasiness would make her lose her appetite, but she had had no such luck. With that in mind, she got up, not bothering with her dressing gown because of how warm the air was, even in the middle of the night, and made her way downstairs.

The kitchen of the Burrow was mercifully deserted, and it was with frenzied, shaking hands that she opened the door of the pantry. She shouldn't have been hungry, really, considering how much she had eaten for dinner - no one had said anything when she had eaten seconds and even thirds - but then, she thought, she _had_ vomited it up immediately afterwards.

Her wand lit, she shifted through the food in the pantry until she found the ice cream in the corner. As she reached out to grab the tub, she could feel the air around her hand become very cold from the cooling charm that kept things frozen.

The ice cream tasted sweet and was a relief to the sick taste that had been stuck in the roof of her mouth. She dug the spoon in and out of the tub, ramming it into her mouth again and again until a large well had formed in what was left of the ice cream and the sweetness started tasting sickly. And then, to her horror, the coldness kicked in, making her head pound, invisible bands squeezing her brain, until, at last, she dropped the container, keeling over to try and alleviate the thrumming on her skull.

It didn't help much. Suddenly, all she wanted to do was get all of the junk she had just piled into her system _out_, damn it, because she was supposed to be on a diet, to try and look less like the fat troll she saw every time she forced herself to look in the mirror. Lily just about managed to make it to the sink, and, steeling herself, she forced two fingers down her throat, aware just how disgusting and pathetic she must look, with tears running down her cheeks and sticky ice cream spurting out of her mouth and into the sink. It hurt, so much, but once she had started, she couldn't stop. That was always how it had been, for however long she had done this for - she'd kept telling herself that the pain was worth it, even though she could barely breathe from the nausea.

Still, she didn't stop, not until her throat felt raw and she was sure everything - _everything _- was gone, after which she washed her hands, feeling so upset and yet strangely relieved, too. She slumped a little, fatigue nearly overwhelming her, and held onto the sink for support. Once she had washed her hands and rinsed her mouth, she made to go upstairs, to the room she was sharing with Dominique.

However, as she turned around, she realised she was not alone: standing there, open-mouthed, was Louis. He had been there all along, probably, and he took a step forward, only for her to shrink away from him. And then Lily felt so self-conscious and naked and vulnerable, in her sheer nightdress, even in the dim kitchen light, that she let out the most unattractive squeak and fled up the stairs immediately, before he could say a word.

* * *

The next day, at the wedding, Louis finally saw Lily only as the sun began to set. She had been avoiding him all day, it seemed, and he had found it difficult to navigate through the wedding venue (Victoire had selected a Muggle hall in Birmingham) and find her while greeting his various French cousins, whom he hadn't seen in years. By now, he was sure his cheeks were stained pink from all the kisses he had exchanged, and though he tried to smile and laugh, he had quickly grown tired of repeating the same platitudes over and over again.

Lily was standing with Victoire and Teddy, waving away the glass of wine Teddy offered her and then laughing at something Victoire said. Louis smiled; that was the first real laugh he had heard all day, not the girlish giggles most of his French relatives (including some of the boys) had.

"Hey, Lily," he said when he was close enough to her, and she looked up, her face immediately falling a little at the sight of him. Nevertheless, he continued, careful to keep his tone nonchalant. "Want to dance?"

She looked like she was going to refuse, and she had just opened her mouth to do so when Victoire interrupted, saying, "Go on," and lifting her glass to Louis. Louis smiled back and pretended to make a face when Teddy bent down and kissed her.

"Leave you two lovebirds alone," Louis called amid several wolf-whistles from onlookers as Lily reluctantly set her glass down and followed him to the dance floor.

"Do you even know how to dance?" she asked, placing her hand hesitantly on his shoulder.

Putting his hand on her waist, he took her other hand into his. "Not really," he admitted. "I actually have three left feet."

"Then why-"

"What, I'm not allowed to ask to dance with my loveliest cousin?" he offered.

"I'm sure your lovely French cousins are lovelier."

"Not a chance," he blurted, and then he looked around, hoping none of them had heard him.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Aunt Gabrielle is the only one I can really talk to, to be honest. The others are so giggly and speak mostly in French to me-" He made a face and said in a high voice, putting on his best French accent, "_Enchantée, Louis, quand es-tu si grand?_"

"_Oh là là_," Lily said, rolling her eyes. She let go of his hand, looking closer at his face, and her tongue darted out to wet her thumb before she rubbed it against his cheek. "You have lipstick there," she informed him.

"Ta," he said, sniggering and jerking his face away to wipe his cheek with his own hand, having momentarily forgotten what he wanted to tell her. When he remembered, he opened his mouth to say something, but he gasped at the sharp pain of a stiletto digging through his shoe into his foot.

Then, just like that, the pain subsided. "Sorry," Lily mumbled. "Should've mentioned - I have three left feet, too."

"Takes one to know one, then," he said, trying to smile and moving slower to try and ease the pain in his toes. She smiled back. Encouraged, Louis began tentatively, "Lily, actually, I did want to talk to you about something."

"Oh yeah?" Her eyebrows raised, she steered them towards the edge of the dance floor, away from the gaggle of people all vying for the camera.

"Yeah," he replied, taking it as a good sign that she hadn't immediately walked away. "Look - about yesterday…"

Already, Louis could feel her stiffen against him. "What about yesterday?"

"You know what I mean," he mumbled, suddenly finding it difficult to locate the right words. "Well, today, technically. In the kitchen. The middle of the night. You - making yourself-"

"Hey!" she hissed. "What is your problem, damn it?" He was sure, had they not been in a public place, that she would have either sworn at him or slapped him. As it was, she simply glared at him and attempted to walk away. But he held onto her waist tighter, inwardly hoping that he hadn't crossed any lines as she struggled and then, to his surprise, relented and continued to dance with him. "Fine," she said quietly, so quietly that he had to lean forward to hear what she was saying properly. "Say what you have to say."

"Lily, I-"

"Just get on with it, okay?"

He took a deep breath. "All right. Fine. I'll say it." Louis spoke softly so as to keep their conversation private, even though he doubted anyone was listening. "I think you've got a - problem, Lily. I don't know why the fuck you're hurting yourself like this or _who_ you're doing this for, if anyone, but making yourself vomit isn't the answer to anything."

"And you would know, wouldn't you?" she countered.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You have no idea what I'm going through, Louis-"

"No, I don't," he agreed, "but I'm trying to understand. And as much as I try, I can't, because I can't understand for the life of me why anyone would want to stick a finger down their throat-"

"_Maybe_ because I want to lose weight," she told him softly, not meeting his eyes and instead looking around furtively.

"Why?"

"Why d'you think?" This time, she managed to wrench herself away from him, stumbling in her heels. He followed her out of the hall until they reached somewhere quieter outside, and once satisfied that no one was around them, he succeeded in grabbing her wrist and turning her around. "Let go of me, damn it!"

"You're not fat," he told her, releasing his hold on her but pleading with her to see reason.

To his surprise, she stayed where she was. "Easy for you to say - you can eat like a fucking pig and you don't put anything on."

Ignoring the jibe, he said, "You actually eat food. That's a good thing."

"No, it's not!"

He didn't care how tactless he sounded now. "So, what, you stuff your face and then stick your finger down your throat afterwards? What the hell kind of life is that, anyway?"

"I don't plan on doing it forever!" she shot back. "It was just for the wedding. You wouldn't get it. You don't know what it's like - I nearly ripped my dress when I first tried it on, and… and it's horrible, okay, when all my cousins look stunning next to me-"

"What, including me?" he couldn't help but ask teasingly. Thankfully, she smiled, too, and looked like she was about to say something, but then she bit her lip and stayed silent. The smile left his face, then, and he became serious again. "Why d'you do it?"

"It's always felt like the right thing to do."

Louis shook his head. "Are you _hearing_ what you're saying, Lily?"

"Don't talk to me like-"

"Don't start talking shit, then!" he burst out. "You're smarter than that. You might _think_ it's the right thing, but when you start getting ill or if you become a fucking stick, you'll realise just how stupid you were being by taking what anyone says seriously."

"No one says anything," Lily said. "Roxanne is the only one to nag me about exercise, but she never calls me fat. Neither does Mum or even anyone at school."

"Then why?"

"I've always been chubby. Admit it."

"You've never been skinny, Lily, no. So what?"

"So I don't like it! So I want to actually look like I'm related to everyone else and not be the bloody odd one out. Is that so bad, that I want to be - beautiful? Really?"

"No, you want to be skinny," Louis corrected. "But you know what? I don't understand why you have anything to worry about. Lily, you're…" Louis halted, suddenly unsure what to say. Saying she _was_ beautiful didn't quite sound right, did it? "You're-" he said, trying again, "-no different from any of us," he finished lamely.

She raised her hands into the air hopelessly. "See? Even you can't-"

"Fine. I think you're… pretty," he finally blurted out, fully aware of the blush working right to the tips of his ears, even though he was sure he hadn't said anything untoward. But he was relieved, too, at saying it, because for some reason, he was desperate to say anything that would take the permanently forlorn look off her face. "Beautiful, even. There."

"I don't want you saying anything you don't mean just because you feel sorry for me and want to make me feel better," she said fiercely, and his heart sank. Why couldn't she just take the compliment instead of arguing with him all the time?

"I do mean it, and I don't feel sorry for you," Louis told her truthfully. "Look. If I really pitied you, I would've patted you on the head and said I'm sorry and that I hoped you could get over this and then just walked away. Or, actually, I probably wouldn't have said anything at all. I didn't do that. Come on, Lily - give me a bit of credit."

"Right," she said faintly. "So you think I'm pretty. That doesn't mean anything. You have crap taste in girls anyway."

She closed her eyes, then, and he could hear her curse under her breath.

"I think we should get back," he said pointedly after a silence, choosing to ignore what she had just said, and she nodded gratefully as they came to an unspoken understanding together.

Finally, she said, "Okay. Louis - thank you."

He waved her off but accepted her hug, and he wasn't sure how long they stood there, the sunlight almost blinding him and his arms around her waist, but it felt like forever.

"No problem," he murmured after the awkward moment when they broke apart and stared at each other for a few seconds before starting to walk back to the hall.

Lily spoke first. "What do you plan on doing after the wedding?"

"Nothing much."

"Want to do nothing much with me?" she asked.

"Yeah, definitely. But only-" She paused in her tracks, folding her arms and turning to look at him, but he continued regardless. "-only if you promise to stop this crap. Please."

Somehow, Lily seemed to shrink, and her voice was a lot quieter when she said, "I'm not sure I can promise that."

"Try," he said. "Don't do this to yourself, Lily. You don't need to."

They continued walking in silence until they reached the venue, and Lily was about to head to the drinks table when Louis caught her arm and stopped her.

"What?"

"I'll let you in on a secret, Lily," he told her softly. "Not everyone likes skinny girls."

She arched her eyebrow until it disappeared beneath her fringe, her scepticism clear. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Take it from me. It's like trying to get cosy with a lamppost."

And with that, he smiled, patted her on the shoulder and made his way towards his father, who was standing on the other side of the dance floor, hoping, above all, that he had done or said _something_ right.

**Chapter End Notes:**

Please, please review! I really am unsure about this story, so I would love to know your thoughts about it. Constructive criticism is welcomed. :)

Also, if you'd like to read the sequels to this, they are in the following order: Broken Glass, The Highway of Regretand Glass. Regardless of if you decide to read the sequel, I would absolutely love to know what you thin


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